Sacred Texts and the Spiritual Practice of Curiosity

One great surprise of Divinity School was how much I loved Biblical Studies. I was required to take a semester on the Hebrew Bible and a semester on the New Testament, and initially thought I’d stop there. Yet, I found myself adding elective courses in Biblical studies each semester.

At first, those classes were difficult for some of my classmates raised with more literal interpretations of scripture. Their faith was tested as they learned about the ever-present humanity in the supposedly divine text—the translation discrepancies, the conflicting stories, the scholarship that placed the date of authorship far after the events were supposed to have taken place. As much as I might have disagreed with their initial interpretation, I took no joy in witnessing their grief and struggle as the faith they had held for many years began to crumble. But it was a great joy to journey alongside them in the rebuilding—as the text began to unfold itself to us in new, and seemingly endless ways.

Together we mined the rich depths that a literal interpretation obscures. We found a deeper understanding of mercy when we engaged with the book of Jonah through a literary lens, reading it as a work of satire written to help a community in the midst of their own struggle with an enemy nation. My concept of radical hospitality was expanded by studying Luke’s story of Martha and Mary in the economic context of host-guest relations in the ancient near east. And amidst the scholarship, there were still moments of mysticism. I realized I did not need to believe it actually happened to be moved by the intimate beauty of the resurrected Jesus making himself known to Mary Magdalene by simply calling her name. “Mary.” There is a truth there, beyond notions of historical accuracy, about how we too are known by the source of all that is holy.

I found that, more than prayer or meditation or silence, I actually felt closest to the divine when I was studying, exploring, and even disagreeing with sacred texts. In some traditions (like the Jewish practice of midrash) wrestling with the text is a sacred, spiritual practice in and of itself.

We are unique among Unitarian Universalist congregations in our regular use of Christian scripture during service. Unlike many of my predecessors, I am not contractually obligated to continue this tradition. But I don’t take changing 400 years of tradition lightly! Some Sundays last year we skipped it, and some Sundays (like our service on Buddhism) we used scripture from other faiths, but I mostly kept to the tradition in my first year. I know some of you wish I hadn’t. I know some of you are deeply grateful I did. And I know some of you simply tune out during the scripture reading and don’t care much either way. All of those responses, and anything in-between, are valid and welcomed! Well…I’d prefer you not tune out every week, but you get my point. I’m not here to judge your reaction to scripture. I am here to listen to it and help us discern a thoughtful way forward that honors tradition, is open to change and can hold this multitude of beliefs.

I know this diversity of opinion can be a source of anxiety. I also think it can be a site of imagination, spiritual exploration, and deepening faith. I know that serving this congregation has made me more curious about scripture and its role in worship. In fact, I spent time this summer studying the role of sacred texts in religious life at Boston College and through books like Karen Armstrong’s wonderful, multi-faith exploration, The Lost Art of Scripture so that I would have some more tools to support this conversation. My invitation (or perhaps request) to you this year is that you also lean into curiosity about this part of our history and liturgy, as well as curiosity about others’ responses to it. Perhaps as a community, we will come closest to the holy in the midst of our own searching, wondering, and wrestling rather than at the end of it.

So before the new church year officially commences on September 13, I’m providing an opportunity for us to think more deeply about scripture from multiple perspectives and traditions. On Sunday September 6, at 10:30 in the sanctuary, we’ll gather for a slightly different kind of worship service. I’ll share a bit about how different faiths understand “sacred texts” (including secular texts like poetry) and we’ll practice some different ways of engaging with those texts that we can incorporate into our own spiritual lives. I think it will be a fun way to try something new and to open up our brains, hearts, and spirits before the start of the church year.

I would love to see you there and I look forward to more opportunities to continue this conversation in the upcoming year.

In faith,
Rev. Danielle